


Crush

by arthur_pendragon



Series: Brittle [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Incest, M/M, Modern Era, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 10:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14591037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthur_pendragon/pseuds/arthur_pendragon
Summary: Merlin will follow him, right? Wherever Arthur goes, Merlin won’t be far behind.





	Crush

**Author's Note:**

> the next time i say a series is done and dusted and then post a new part _twice_ , feel free to smack me over the head. i won't say the series is over for good this time because we all know my record on that.  
> did you read the warning?
> 
> also, in order to make sense of the ending you will definitely need to read part 4 (and 3 and 2 and 1 while we're at it)

“Tell me a story,” Merlin whispers into the space between Arthur’s arm and chest. The bed is too small for two people but Arthur is comfortable, crushed between Merlin and the wall. He bites his lip, in no state to make something up.

“Once upon a time,” he begins, and yawns very widely. Merlin snorts. Arthur’s tempted to push him off his arm, numb from the weight of Merlin’s head, but he doesn’t; he will never push Merlin away. He _can’t_ —it almost physically hurts him to deny Merlin anything. “Once upon a time, there was a prince. His name was Arthur.”

Merlin inhales sharply. “Yeah?” he says, eager now, propping himself up on an elbow to stare straight into Arthur’s eyes.

“Yeah, he looked just like me,” Arthur says, hoping to make Merlin snort again. “Had my blond hair and blue eyes, and my extremely pretty face and my chest hair and my cock—”

“All right, all right,” Merlin mumbles, snuggling closer to Arthur. Arthur rolls over onto his side to face Merlin, dropping a kiss onto his temple.

“And the prince led a very happy life, surrounded by wealth and friendship. He had this—this idiot of a knight, called Merlin,” Arthur continues, musing on where to take the story next.

“What if he was actually your servant?” supplies Merlin helpfully, strangely seeming disappointed. Arthur hurries to fix that.

“Sure,” Arthur says. “Merlin, who was a couple of years younger than him, and who followed the prince around like a gormless fool.”

“Loyal friend,” Merlin mutters. Arthur slides a hand down Merlin’s back, beneath the waistband of his shorts, to cup Merlin’s arse. Merlin sighs.

“What did Merlin look like?” he asks.

“Well, Merlin wasn’t much to look at, compared to his prince,” Arthur says, and grins as Merlin digs his nails into Arthur’s shoulder in protest. “That’s a lie, all right. Merlin was insanely beautiful. The prince loved him very much. He could never stop thinking about Merlin’s _everything_.”

“Yeah?” Merlin says, leaning close to lick Arthur’s pouting lips. Arthur dips for another kiss, and for a luxurious moment the only thing he needs to worry about is Merlin squirming against him. “Carry on with the story,” Merlin implores, pulling away.

“Story’s more important than me?” Arthur asks. He’s selfish. He’s an utter bastard, because he knows the answer and still forces Merlin to say it every single time.

Merlin stops short. “No,” he admits, hushed. “Nothing’s more important than you, Arthur. You’re everything to me, and I love you so much I can’t bear to be away from you. I want to hold you in my arms, I need you like I need to breathe, I want you in me, always, forever, you’re—” His voice rises in volume towards the end. Arthur presses a hand against his lips, a little bit in awe that a fifteen-year-old brat like Merlin would spout poetry for someone as unworthy as Arthur.

“Mum’s right downstairs,” he whispers into Merlin’s mouth, an _utter_ _bastard_. “Don’t want _her_ to listen in on us, do you?”

“I wouldn’t care,” Merlin says fiercely, mumbling against the salt of Arthur’s palm, scrabbling at Arthur’s sweatpants and trying to push them down. “I _want_ Mum and Dad to know. I want everyone to know you’re mine, no matter what.”

The declaration sends a thrill through Arthur and he moans despite himself. Merlin freezes for a second, then speeds up his hurried attempts to get Arthur naked. He almost falls off the bed kicking away the sweatpants. Arthur laughs and grabs him before he topples over, and rises from the bed in a smooth movement that gets Merlin under him, still wearing his stupid black shorts that contrast so deliciously against his pale, unblemished skin—

“Get them off, Arthur,” Merlin whispers wickedly.

Arthur swallows down the lump in his throat and runs a heavy hand over the front of the shorts. “I’ll do what I want,” he whispers back.

“God, you always do,” Merlin sighs, jerking up to meet Arthur’s palm.

“So. Story or me?” Arthur asks.

“Both? I want to know more about those two,” Merlin offers.

“Mm, okay,” Arthur says, lowering himself onto his little brother’s fire-hot body and closing his mouth on a patch of Merlin’s skin, right below his adorable ears. Merlin’s hands fly, one to Arthur’s hair and the other to his arse, kneading and massaging and pushing _down_.

Arthur nibbles at Merlin, making sure not to do it hard enough to leave a mark—despite whatever Merlin says in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t think either of them can risk discovery, not really, and he doesn’t think Merlin’s got a girlfriend at school to do this to him—

“Have you got a girlfriend at school?” he asks, unable to hold back.

“Yeah,” Merlin says, trembling under Arthur’s attention. “Girl called, erm, Helen.”

“ _Really_ ,” Arthur says, and doesn’t stop teasing Merlin’s clothed cock for a second. “Well, this Helen’s also in the story. So, story-Merlin did some daft thing as he always does, just like you, and back in those days they used to have this contraption called a pillory, where—”

“I know what it is, I’m smarter than you, get on with it,” Merlin says, tugging insistently at Arthur’s hair. Arthur snickers.

“So, the prince put Merlin in there to punish him, and forgot on purpose to get him out again in time because Merlin wasn’t sorry.”

“Like you will be?”

“Cheeky,” Arthur mutters, grinning and nipping Merlin’s mouth with his teeth. Merlin looks gorgeous, eyes scrunched shut, trying to get more of Arthur on him, teasing a finger between Arthur’s cheeks to brush over his hole. Arthur gasps and pushes back against it. “An—anyway, this Helen tart decides to revenge herself on the prince because the king did something daft, too—”

“You know, either you’re not very creative, or everyone in the citadel’s an idiot,” Merlin laughs, cracking an eye open to peer at Arthur.

“How’d you know they lived in a citadel?” Arthur exclaims. Merlin blushes and turns his head away.

“Erm, I can read your mind,” he says, after a moment in which Arthur removes his hand from Merlin’s wet shorts and grinds down on him with his bare cock to regain his attention. It sends electric shocks up his back, watching the tendons stand out in Merlin’s long neck, his hair a sooty mess against Arthur’s pillow, his nipples red and bruised from achingly dirty things Arthur did to them this morning before they went off to school together.

“You’ve always known everything there is to know about me,” Arthur says softly. “Look at me, love. Look into my eyes.”

Merlin looks.

“Hero-worshipper,” Arthur says and parts Merlin’s mouth with his tongue, licking into it with filthy, sweeping strokes that make Merlin shudder and keen and forget about everything but Arthur’s kisses. Arthur pulls Merlin’s shorts down one-handed, freeing Merlin’s cock and grazing the tip of his thumb against his slit.

Merlin squeezes his eyes shut again as he wraps his legs around Arthur’s hips and bears down, kissing him back desperately, nearly on the edge even though Arthur’s barely just started.

“Darling,” Arthur mumbles, nosing Merlin’s bridge. “Hey. I’ll always be your golden brother. I’ll always, always be there for you. I’ll always love you, no matter what, more than anyone else in the world. Okay?”

Merlin just cups Arthur’s face and kisses him deeper, clumsy and uncoordinated and somehow so, so innocent. His chin is dripping with Arthur’s spit and his lips are swollen red like he just gave Arthur the blow job of his life and it’s far sexier than anything else they’ve done this evening and now Arthur’s on the edge, too, just _thinking_ about his baby brother so eager for him, so immersed in his kisses, so erotic, his, all his—

“You’re a greedy fuck,” Merlin gasps, reading Arthur’s mind again and running his hands all over Arthur’s chest, scratching at his hair and thumbing at his nipples, so loving, and Arthur kisses him again just to muffle his shout as he shoots come onto Merlin’s stomach, and reaches down to rub some of it into the head of Merlin’s red cock, which sends Merlin coming all over Arthur’s hand. Arthur affectionately feeds it all to Merlin later, and tastes some of it on Merlin’s tongue for himself.

—

“What’s the place called?”

Arthur stirs, and blinks first at the clock—two in the morning, they’ve only been sleeping for an hour, fuck’s sake, Merlin, he knows it’s early Saturday morning but really—and then at the huddled figure on the bed at the opposite end of the room.

“Hm?” Arthur says intelligently. There’s water pooling on the floor, rippling up through the floorboards. Arthur can see the glimmer of the sun reflecting off the surface, waves rolling and crashing against each other.

“The place where the story happened. What’s it called?”

“Oh, er. Camelot.”

There’s a shocked silence and then a choked sound suspiciously like a hitched sob from Merlin’s end, jerking Arthur out of his bed and into Merlin’s even before he’s fully awake, wading through the rapidly rising water in seconds to get to Merlin.

“Darling,” Arthur says, slipping beneath the thick quilt and curling around his shaking brother’s form. “What’s the matter?”

“Do you—do you know someone called, erm, Percival? Or Gwaine? Were you going to add them into your story if I hadn’t interrupted you?”

“No,” Arthur says, confused. “Who’s got ancient names like _those_?”

“I,” Merlin says helplessly, and says nothing else for a while. Arthur listens to the cry of seagulls outside his window. Then Merlin ventures, “Sorry. I’m half-asleep. Go back to your bed, Mum or Dad might come wake us up in the morning and you’ll—”

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur says, kissing Merlin’s soft hair and stroking his cheek gently, even as his mattress is thoroughly soaked cold and warm and bright. His lungs feel like they're ablaze. It’s relaxing. “I’ll wake up before they do and go back to mine, okay? I just need to be with you right now, in case you start crying like a girl.”

Merlin laughs. “You never change,” he says. “You never will.” But he clings tightly to Arthur as he drifts off. Arthur can feel the steady thump of Merlin’s heartbeat against his, almost like an anchor in a sea.

Arthur watches his and Merlin’s room fill up with water like in the films, disgustingly briny and green, sunlight bursting through at two in the morning, and strangely feels disinclined to move, even as tiny waves lap over his arms and peck his nose and fill his nostrils and submerge his eyes and his hair and he’s floating and he can’t breathe, but he isn’t moving, he’s right there on the bed with Merlin, he’ll always be right there on the bed with Merlin. He’ll never go anywhere else; all he wants, all he’ll ever want is to lie there, sleeping with Merlin clinging to him with the promise of never letting go.

Because Merlin will follow him, right? Wherever Arthur goes, Merlin won’t be far behind.

Merlin will never let go.

That’s a reassuring idea to contemplate. Merlin’s a soothing thought to think about, as bubbles rush by him like glittering lights.

The sea is too big for one person the bed is too small for two people but Arthur is comfortable but Arthur is comfortable, crushed between Merlin and the wall crushed between Merlin and the weight of the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Arthur's happiest and most cherished memory.
> 
> if you hated this and feel the need to tell me so, please just remember there's a human being who'll be reading it


End file.
